


The Night Before Christmas

by sdottkrames



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Santa Claus: The Movie (1985), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Gen, Kid Peter Parker, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Peter Parker, The Santa Clause AU, Tony Stark Has A Heart, i hope you enjoy!, this is so self indulgent guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28211415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdottkrames/pseuds/sdottkrames
Summary: Tony had not signed up for this.He hadn’t meant to kill the guy in the Santa suit. He’d gotten startled, he’d yelled, then the other guy got startled and slipped and then just disappeared.Now he was wearing the guy’s suit, driving the guy’s sleigh (driven by actual freaking reindeer), with his 8-year-old son in the passenger seat, delivering Christmas presents like he really was Santa.He really needed to to learn how to say no to Peter’s puppy dog eyes.(Or the Irondad Santa Claus AU nobody asked for that I’m giving anyway)
Relationships: Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Friday & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 22





	1. Such a Clatter

**Author's Note:**

> This AU literally slapped me in the face a few weeks ago, but I didn’t think much of it. I finally decided to write it, and it has been an absolute blast! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. It’s very self indulgent, very cheesy, and very fun! 
> 
> Happy Holidays, everyone! 💜

Tony Stark knew he was a horrible father.

Could you blame him, though? His own father had never held him, never told him he loved him, never even given him a dang Christmas present that didn’t have some way of benefiting Howard. Tony could program a robot, solve the hardest math equation, read difficult Stark Industries paperwork without batting an eye, but he had no idea how to connect with his own kid.

Which was why he hadn’t had any contact with the Parkers, believing that Peter would be best without him, until Peter's mom and the man who’d raised Peter as his own had suddenly died. Tony was told that Mary Parker’s dying wish was for him to get to know his son.

Which was why, as he rode up the elevator to his penthouse level of the Stark Industry tower, butterflies filled his stomach, making it impossible for him to think about eating the turkey he’d asked Pepper to order for dinner. He wiped his hands on his Jean pants, and swallowed as the doors slid open.

“-promise you’ll pick me up tomorrow? Early?” A little voice was saying. Tony carefully kept his face neutral, hiding the fact he’d heard his son begging to go home before his aunt had even left.

Said aunt glanced up as Tony stepped off the elevator, breaking her embrace with the little boy to stand up, but kept his hand in hers.

“Hello, Tony.”

“May,” he greeted. “Looking lovely as ever.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you. Where’s his room, I’ll go drop his things off.”

“Down the hall, first door on the right.”

May left to go put Peter’s pajamas, change of clothes, and stuffed animal (strangely, a spider. Tony wasn’t sure what to make of that one) on his bed, and Tony went to the kitchen, finding himself face to face with his son.

After an awkward pause while Peter sat at the kitchen table, Tony decided he better say  _ something _ .

“I, uh, ordered some turkey for dinner. You like Turkey?”

Peter nodded, his curls bouncing in his face. “Why aren’t there any presents under the tree?”

Tony’s eyes widened from the seemingly out of left field question. Trying to prove that he was not his father, he had gone shopping weeks ago for presents for Peter. He hadn’t known what to get him so, naturally, he’d bought a small mountain of toys. But he’d hidden them all, fully expecting (and slightly excited) to play Santa and situate the presents under the tree while Peter was asleep

“Well, duh, bambino,” he said lightly. “That’s because Santa hasn’t come yet.” 

He surprised himself when the Italian endearment his mother used to call him slipped out. Looking at Peter’s big brown for eyes and adorable chocolate curls just made him feel….parental. Maybe this would be easier than he thought?

“Well, I’m too old for Santa,” Peter declared, and the world screeched to a stop along with Tony’s heart.

Tony had stopped believing in Santa when he was 2. His father had bluntly told him there was no such thing, and all those movies and stories were just make believe, and no Stark should believe in fairy tales. Luckily he’d had his uncle Jarvis, and aunts Anna and Peggy. They’d tried to help him believe for as long as possible, but Tony was so desperate to please his father (a fruitless effort, he now knew) that he refused to rekindle his belief.

He was suddenly angry at May and Ben for doing the same thing to Peter.

As if summoned by his thoughts, May started down the hall. Tony met her halfway.

“Did you and Ben tell Peter that Santa isn’t real?” Tony couldn’t quite keep the anger out of his voice. He may not have been a huge part of Peter’s life, but he was trying, and he wanted his kid to have a childhood, including the belief in Santa that he never got to experience.

“What?” May’s eyes were clouded with confusion before understanding chased it away. “Oh. No, see some kid at school- Flash, I think- was making a bunch of kids cry by saying Santa wasn’t real. Peter stood up to him, but he was so upset when he came home that we thought-”

“You thought it was best to take away his childhood?”

May’s eyes flashed. “Do not start with me, Stark. You have not been in his life this entire time, and you are  **_not_ ** going to tell me how to parent!”

Tony took a step back.  _ She is scary when she’s angry _ . 

“And for the record, we didn’t tell him there was no Santa. We told him that we’re all Santa, in a way, so it didn’t completely destroy the magic. We’re not heartless monsters, you know.”

“Fine. It’s fine. It’s not  _ that _ big of a deal. And I don’t see you as monsters, alright? I just...I’m trying here, okay? I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I am. And I want Peter to have a childhood, I don’t want him to have one like mi-”

Tony stopped himself short. He didn’t know May that well, and she didn’t need to know his tragic backstory. That wasn’t something they were doing. Nope.

But May softened a little. “Alright, Tony. Alright. I know you’re trying, that’s why we’re here.” 

JARVIS, Tony’s AI, chirped suddenly from the ceiling. “Mr. Parker would like me to inform Mrs. Parker that they are running late and need to be going now.”

May looked at her watch. “Oh goodness, I got to go. Just...please be sensitive about the Santa issue? He was really upset about it.”

“Okay.”

She went over and gave Peter another hug and kiss before scurrying out the door, shouting one last “I love you” to her nephew as the door swung shut.

Tony refrained from making a separation anxiety joke, knowing it would probably be bad form. 

“What was that voice, coming from the ceiling?” Peter asked, eyes all lit up with curiosity, shining like the Christmas tree in the living room.

“That was JARVIS, my Artificial Intelligence. He runs the house.”

“Woah, cool. Can he make the Christmas tree lights go off?”

“With pleasure, young sir,” Jarvis answered for himself before extinguishing the lights.

“That’s awesome! Did you make him?”

Tony was used to attention, but not like this. Peter’s curiosity and admiration were nothing like he’d seen from anybody, other than maybe Rhodey.

“Yeah, I did. You like building things?” he finally asked around the strange emotion in his throat. Where had this even come from? First the italian nickname, now this? 

_ I must’ve had too much to drink at the SI party tonight. I’m always more emotional when I’m slightly drunk. Yeah. That’s it. _

(Tony would never admit he’d purposely not drank more than a teensy bit of egg nog and refused any other alcohol so he would be fully alert for his son.)

“Well, Ben is a police officer and May’s a nurse, so I don’t really make things with them. They don’t understand it. But my mom used to love to invent. I still have a little night light she made for me that projected constellations on the ceiling! I liked learning from her.”

Tony’s mind flew down to his lab, thinking of all the things he could show Peter. He couldn’t take Peter down there, though, could he? That would be way inappropriate for a kid Peter’s age, right?

“What have you made?” Tony asked, despite himself. 

“Well, I have this old robot I built when I was 5.” Peter’s cheeks turned a very adorable shade of pink, and Tony couldn’t help but notice.

“You’re blushing!” He teased.

Looking even more red, and stammering a little on his words, Peter explained. “Well, I re-remembered a robot you made. DUM-E. I m-made mine to look like that.”

Tony was once again swallowing back emotion. He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure he looks awesome, if he’s anything like mine.” He winked at Peter, and was rewarded by a huge smile. “Now what do you say to dinner?”

“I’m starving!”

Unfortunately, Tony was a much better mechanic than he was a cook. Despite having the turkey and fixings pre-ordered, he managed to set the microwave on fire trying to warm them up. 

Peter stared at him as he brandished the fire extinguisher.

“Not a word of this to your aunt, alright?”

Peter just grinned. At least someone was enjoying the situation.

“Luckily, I know a great take out place we can get. You like chinese?”

“Sure!”

Deciding to try and do something to salvage the evening, he threw caution to the wind and took Peter down to the lab after ordering their food. He was much gratified as Peter’s eyes opened wide as saucers, and the kid immediately began running around asking _what’s_ _this what’s this what’s this?!?!_

Needless to say, they ended up staying up way too late, too absorbed in building and bonding to notice the time.

Tony looked at the clock when Peter’s head bobbed twice in succession and cursed when he saw it was nearly 11. May had been adamant about the 9:30 bedtime. 

“We gotta get you in bed, kiddo! You’re aunt’s gonna kill me.”

Peter nodded sleepily, and Tony gently guided him up to his bedroom. 

“Can you read me a story?” Peter pleaded.

Tony sighed. The big brown puppy dog eyes were definitely not fair. He was gonna have to get Peter to teach him that so he could get out of meetings with Pepper.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Sure. Go brush your teeth, and I’ll pick out a book. But only one. It’s way too late already.”

Tony thought of his mom again, and decided to honor tradition. They always read  _ The Night Before Christmas _ on Christmas Eve.

“Jarvis? Pull up  _ The Night Before Christmas _ ,” Tony called once Peter emerged from the bathroom.

The colored virtual book appeared in front of Tony, and Peter gasped appreciatively at the holograph as he snuggled into the covers.

Tony began to read:

_ ‘Twas the night before Christmas, _

_ when all through the house _

_ Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; _

_ The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, _

_ In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; _

_ The children were nestled all snug in their beds; _

_ While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; _

_ And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, _

_ Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, _

_ When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, _

_ I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. _

_ Away to the window I flew like a flash, _

_ Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. _

_ The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, _

_ Gave a lustre of midday to objects below, _

_ When what to my wondering eyes did appear, _

_ But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer, _

_ With a little old driver so lively and quick, _

_ I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick. _

  
  


He paused as a delicate snore interrupted him. Gently patting Peter’s soft curls, he closing the holograph and started towards the door.

“Dad?” Peter mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Maybe we should leave some cookies and milk out. Just in case?”

“I’ll just preheat the oven then.”

“Don’t forget the fire extinguisher.”.

Tony shook his head, chuckling lightly. “‘Night Peter.”

Tony definitely did not make cookies. He didn’t fancy having to deal with a second burnt appliance, but he did leave out a plate of milk and some Oreos, taking a bite out of each. Then he carefully situated the many presents he got for Peter under the tree and, satisfied with the effect, went to bed.

* * *

Peter Parker woke up with a start as something landed with a  _ thud _ on the roof.

_ A clatter!  _

Like the person in the story, Peter jumped from the bed and ran to the window. When he didn’t see anything, he quickly ran to his dad’s room.

“Dad,” he said, shaking the man’s arm. “ **_Dad!_ ** ”

Tony blearily rubbed his eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I heard a...a clatter!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Like in the poem, dad! A clatter!”

“A clatter is a noisy disturbance or a racket,” Jarvis stated helpfully from the ceiling.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Thanks, J.”

“Anytime sir,” the AI answered. “And, if I may, Master Peter is correct. There is currently someone on the roof.”

Tony’s instincts went into overdrive. Since a child, he’d been taught to be wary of strangers and had always been a little paranoid. He practically dragged his son to his room, and gently shoved him into the closet. 

“Stay here, okay? I’ll take care of it, but you  _ stay here.” _

Peter nodded, eyes wide, and Tony silently prayed that his son would stay safe.

He ran to his room, grabbed the crowbar he always kept next to his bed for just such moments as these, and took the elevator to the helipad, where the intruder apparently was.

With his ears full of his pounding heart, and his head full of worst-case scenarios, nothing, absolutely  _ nothing,  _ could have prepared the great Tony Stark for the shock of seeing Santa Claus standing there.

“Hey!” He shouted, not believing for a second the man was actually Santa. “What are you doing on my roof?”

The man turned at Tony’s voice, but he turned too quick. The roof was slick with ice and the recently fallen snow. Tony watched helplessly as Santa lost his footing and slipped, sliding all the way to the edge of the helipad and hitting his head on the glass security. 

“Oh sh-”

“You killed him!” 

Tony stopped mid curse as Peter’s small voice came from behind him, and he whirled around- narrowly avoiding slipping himself- to see Peter standing at the doorway, brown eyes full of shock and worry. 

“Peter! You were supposed to stay in your room!”

“I wanted to see if it was Santa. And it was, and now you killed him!”

Tony scrambled to salvage the situation. “No I didn’t. C’mon, he only hit his head. Well call an ambulance and he’ll be just fine.”

He turned back around to check on Santa suit guy, but all he found was an empty outfit lying flat in the snow.

“What? Where’d he go!?”

Tony ran over, trying to find something. He didn’t know what he was looking for. A naked man in a Santa hat? There was nothing to indicate where the man had gone. No footprints, no naked man, nothing. Nothing except the empty suit and a card that Tony found rummaging in one of the pockets.

_ If anything should happen to me, put on the suit. The reindeer will know what to do  _

“What reindeer?” Tony asked aloud, and was answered by Peter’s adorable giggles. Tony turned around. “ _ Where did the reindeer come from?!” _ He shrieked. 

Tony’s eyes were going to pop out of his skull if they got any wider. First the Santa suit guy showed up on his roof, then the guy  _ disappeared, _ now suddenly there was a sleigh and eight reindeer. No matter how Tony tried to wrap his head around it, the situation made absolutely no sense.

“Dad,” Peter giggled, “come here! They’re so cute!”

“Pete, get away from those things. We don’t know where they came from!”

His statement earned him a glare from one of the reindeer.

“Sorry, no offense...uh...Donner?”

The reindeer grunted.

“Blitzen?”

Another grunt.

“Comet, dad,” Peter said in a tone that made it very clear he was unimpressed with Tony’s guessing abilities. He pointed at the name on the harness near the reindeer’s neck.

“Of course,” Tony said. “How silly of me. Comet, then.” 

Peter continued to scratch Comet’s neck- to the reindeer’s delight, though Tony would be much more comfortable if Peter had listened to him and kept his fingers away from biting range- before abandoning the animals in favor of checking out the sleigh.

“Peter, please get down from there!”

“Check this out dad! It’s so cool!”

“Peter,” Tony sighed, and climbed up and into the sleigh. “Wow,” he said, unable to help himself. “This is pretty cool.”

“I know, right. I wonder what button this does!”

“No!” Tony cried, grabbing Peter’s hand gently. “Don’t touch any buttons. We don’t know what they do. They could be dangerous.”

Peter nodded gravely, and turned around to inspect the back of the sleigh.

“Hey, look! It’s santa’s bag!”

Tony looked at the intricately patterned sack. It was beautiful, but totally empty. 

“I guess as Santa already finished his rounds this Christmas. All the presents are delivered.”

“No, dad. There’s still some in there!” Peter said, looking inside. “Since you killed Santa, you gotta deliver them!” Peter’s whole body jumped excitedly as an idea came to him like a lightbulb above his head. “What if you’re Santa Claus now?”

“Peter, I can’t be Santa Claus. Santa’s not-” Tony cut himself short, realizing what he had been about to say.

“I thought you believed in him,” Peter pouted. 

“I- I do. Santa’s not a CEO like I am. I have work at Stark Industries. Besides, I’m not nice enough. I can’t be Santa Claus.”

Tony felt like a jerk as he watched his son’s face fall.

“Can’t you be Santa, just for tonight?” Peter pleaded, and again Tony was absolutely shocked at how effective Peter’s big puppy dog eyes were.

He groaned. “Fine. But just tonight.”

“Yes!” Peter cheered, and Tony began to climb into the sleigh.

“No dad. You gotta put on the suit!”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely not.”

“Isn’t that what the card said?”

Stifling another groan, Tony walked over and put on the oversized pants and coat. 

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but Peter nodded appreciatively, so at least someone was having a good time.

He hopped in the sleigh and grabbed the reins. 

“I don’t even know how to drive this thing. How do we make it go?” Tony slapped the reins experimentally. “C’mon reindeer! Uh...up up and away? Fly, reindeer?”

“On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, and Vixen,” Peter chimed in.

Tony got the hint. “On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen!”

He was thrown back against the seat as the reindeer took off into the sky.

“We’re flying. How is this possible? We’re  _ flying!! _ ”

They didn’t fly for long. The reindeer landed on a house only a short distance away.

“Hey! I was about to get the hang of that,” Tony complained. “Sooooo, now what? I deliver the presents?”

Tony swore he saw Comet’s head nod once.

“But the bag is  _ empty _ ! There’s maybe one present in there. That’s not how this works.”

Tony picked up the bag to show the reindeer (that was the strangest thing he’d ever done), but was instead flying through the air once again, this time his grip on the bag keeping him from falling. Down the chimney he went.

“Oh man, this is going to be a long night,” he groaned to himself.

Tony had not signed up for this. 

He hadn’t meant to kill the guy in the Santa suit. He’d gotten startled, he’d yelled, then the other guy got startled and slipped and then just disappeared.

Now he was wearing the guy’s suit, driving the guy’s sleigh (driven by actual freaking reindeer), with his 8-year-old son in the passenger seat, delivering  _ Christmas presents  _ like he really was Santa.

He really needed to to learn how to say no to Peter’s puppy dog eyes. 

After all night delivering presents, braving fires, attack dogs, and inexistent fireplaces (Tony still couldn’t understand the physics of  _ that _ one), he was ready to go home.

“Let’s go, boys. Time to go home!” He called after the very last house.

He’d meant New York. But the reindeer had other ideas, because the place they landed was  _ definitely _ not New York. It was cold and snowy, and there wasn’t a building to be seen.

“Hey! Hey! What’s going on? Where are we?” Tony called, pulling Peter close to his side as a small figure came into view. 

_ A kid? _

The little kid ignored all of Tony’s questions, simply smiling cryptically and punching some numbers into a keypad that appeared from the snow.

Tony was starting to be  _ reeeaaal _ over this night. It felt like it was just one question mark after another. He had to be dreaming.

He opened his mouth to ask for answers  _ yet again _ (Tony hated being ignored), but before any words came out, the ice under the sleigh gave way with a jolt.

If anybody asked, Tony would never admit the small, high pitched scream that definitely didn’t come out of his mouth.

He held Peter closer as the sleigh descended into a town that was unlike anything Tony had seen. Little kids were milling around, first of all, and they were all smiling up at him with the faces too cherubic to be human, and was this a  _ toy _ shop?

It didn’t make any sense. 

Peter, on the other hand, was absolutely thrilled. His grin was even bigger than when Tony had shown him the lab, and he was looking this way and that to take it all in. Tony could practically see the kid’s head gears moving, thinking of all the toys and cool things he could make.

_ He really is my son  _ Tony though, pride coloring the words.

The sleigh hit the floor, and Tony pushed Peter down.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “I mean it, Pete.”

Peter nodded, his curls bouncing in his eyes. Tony stepped out the sleigh to be met with the oldest looking of the kids killing around, which didn’t mean much. He still only looked like a teenager. His eyes were significantly less sparkly, though.

“Welcome to the North Pole,” he said.

“Wow. You guys are really committed to this whole Santa’s Workshop thing, huh?” The elf didn't look amused. “Oookay. Well, who’s in charge here, kid?”

“You are. And I’m not a kid. The names Happy.”

Happy began to move through the workshop, gesturing for Tony to follow.

“Okay, then. Happy. Where’s the big man? The one who runs everything.”

“ _ You _ are, sir,” 

“No, I am not.”

“The other Santa disappeared, right?”

“Oh, I see where this is going. That was  _ not _ my fault. I didn’t mean to make the guy slip on ice! And I have very good lawyers.”

Happy stopped, annoyance clear in his face. “I’m not worried about that. You read the card right?”

Tony pulled it out of his pocket. “Yeah. It said put on the suit, and the reindeer would know what to do.”

“Yes, but did you read the fine print? There’s a  _ clause _ .”

“You mean Santa?”

Tony could see Happy mentally pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes. But no. I’m talking about a  _ clause _ , with an E. You put on the suit, and  _ you’re _ Santa now.”

Tony blinked. 

Happy grabbed the card from Tony’s hand, and pulled a magnifying glass out. Sure enough, in the smallest print Tony had ever seen, it explained that he was indeed Santa Claus.

“I must be dreaming. That’s what this is!”

Now Happy was actually pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not dreaming, sir. You are now Santa Claus. You’ll have 11 months to get everything in order, and we’ll come pick you up at Thanksgiving.”

Another elf came, Peter right on her heels. She had beautiful strawberry blonde hair that reminded him of his secretary, Pepper’s, and she spoke with an accent he’d heard somewhere in Ireland. She didn’t look older than maybe 10 years old.

“I found this young one hiding in the sleigh and thought I might take him for a little snack before bed. Would you like to join us, boss?”

Tony didn’t think he could handle any more food after the many cookies of various shapes and sizes he’d had to eat while delivering presents. “I’m not hungry, but I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”

The elf raised an eyebrow. “How about some hot cocoa. It’ll help you sleep much better than coffee will. Besides, it’s my specialty.” 

Tony nodded, and they bid farewell to Happy before following her through the workshop.

“Me name’s Friday,” she said with a kind smile.

“Tony. And this is my son-”

“Peter. Yes, we met.” Friday winked at Peter, making the boy giggle. She stopped outside a room, opening the door to let them all in.

It was a beautiful bedroom. A large bed, looking like it had the most comfortable pillows Tony had ever seen, was the main feature, along with a huge window overlooking the town.

Friday handed him a pair of red pajamas. “Go ahead and get changed. I’ll be right up with your cocoa.”

Peter, already in his night clothes, was bouncing around while Tony changed. “Isn’t this so cool?!” He darted from the bed to the closet to the window. “Dad! There’s a polar bear directing traffic out there!” 

“That’s Gerald,” Friday said, reentering the room with a tray holding two steaming mugs of cocoa. She handed one to each of the boys, who sat on the bed to drink it. “He’s been at that post for nearly 500 years.” she sighed wistfully. “I remember when he’d just started.”

Tony nearly spit his cocoa out, which would have been a waste because it was the richest, creamiest, most delicious hot chocolate he'd ever had. “500 years? You’re older than 500?”

Friday chuckled. “I just turned 3,000, boss.”

“Well you look very good for your age,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Also, this cocoa is absolutely amazing.”

Friday smiled. “Thank you. My own special recipe. Just a dash of cinnamon, shaken not stirred.”

Tony took another sip, savoring the taste and enjoying the warm feeling. He was very tired, and the cocoa definitely made his eyes heavier than he could hold them open. It filled his body with warmth from his head to his toes.

He wasn’t the only one, either. Peter had snuggled closer and closer to Tony, his head ending up on his dad’s bicep. Tony grabbed the boys mug to avoid cocoa on the sheets, and handed both cups to Friday.

“Thank you. Really. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome.” She took the mugs and watched quietly as Tony gently scooped Peter up and laid him down on the bed, tucking him into the covers. “You look distressed.”

Tony scoffed. “What gave you that idea?” He sighed. “It’s just...I stopped believing in Santa a long time ago.”

“That’s not surprising. Most adults don’t believe, either.”

“I just don’t know how to wrap my head around all this. I’m seeing it, but I’m not believing it.”

“Well, that's kind of the problem, then, isn’t it? Seeing isn’t believing. Believing is seeing.”

She bid him goodnight, leaving him alone to mull over her words. Thank goodness for the cocoa, because instead of staying awake with an overactive mind replaying everything that happened and keeping him from dreamland, Tony was asleep mere seconds after his head hit the pillow. 


	2. A Right Jolly Old Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony woke up Christmas morning feeling more rested than he had in months, if not years.
> 
> He stretched, the unfamiliar feeling of silk rubbing against his skin, and with it came the flood of memories of the night before.
> 
> No way that was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to have this out yesterday and the last chapter out on Christmas, but here it is Christmas Eve. Luckily, my excuse is that I’ve been having fun with family, so I hope you enjoy this chapter, forgive any mistakes (i am very tired), and leave kudos and comments to let me know what you think! 💜

Tony woke up Christmas morning feeling more rested than he had in months, if not years.   
  


He stretched, the unfamiliar feeling of silk rubbing against his skin, and with it came the flood of memories of the night before.

_ No way that was real _ .

But the pajamas he had on were most definitely not his, though it wouldn’t be the first time waking up in someone else’s clothes, so he didn’t think it as concrete proof. Maybe they’d ended up in his closet and he’d forgotten about them and put them on in his exhaustion the night before.

Peter, on the other hand, was another story.

The entire time he opened his presents (Tony was extremely gratified that each and every one elicited a huge smile or squeal) he couldn’t stop talking about how cool the elves and the North Pole were.

When May came, much to Tony’s chagrin, Peter couldn’t help but tell her everything.

“And we met Happy and Friday and saw Gerald the polar bear. It was awesome!” He finished, and Tony wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was certain he was already dead from the look May was giving him.

“Uh, we didn’t...I, um-” he stammered.

May shook her head at him. “Peter, why don’t you go down with Ben. I’m gonna talk to Tony for a second and I’ll be right there.”

“Okay!” He agreed happily, and gave Tony the tightest hug. Tony closed his eyes and tried to commit the feeling to memory. He’d never expected to love someone so much, so quickly. “Bye dad. I had so much fun!”

And if that wasn’t just the best thing Tony had heard, then he wasn’t a billionaire.

Unfortunately, it came at a price because as Peter entered the elevator, Tony was left alone with a very upset May. She rounded on him as soon as Peter was out of sight, eyes blazing.

“Tony, I  _ told  _ you-”

“May, I didn’t...that wasn’t supposed to happen. I had this strangely vivid dream and I must’ve told him about it. I have no idea how he got it in his head that it was real, I swear!”

May sighed, her hackles lowering. Apparently, she could sense his honesty.

“Alright. Well, I’m glad he had a fun time, just...let’s be on the same page, okay? I thought we were when you agreed to be careful with the whole Santa thing. If you want to be in his life, you gotta play by our rules.”

“Sure, May. Whatever you want. I don’t know what all that was about. Honest.”

May nodded. “Okay. Merry Christmas, Tony.”

“Merry Christmas.”

***

_ “Hi, is this Mr. Stark?” _

Tony didn’t recognize the voice on the other end. 

“Uh, yes, this is. And who is this?”

_ “Principal Calvin. Peter Parker’s principal. I had you listed down as an emergency contact? I’ve contacted May and Ben, as well. I need you all to come in and have a chat together with Peter.” _

When Peter had gone back to school after the holiday break, the Parker’s had agreed to add Tony as an emergency contact. Tony had been thrilled, and was glad that he’d already sent in the schematics for the newest missile to Obie, so the rest of his day was fairly free.

“I’ll be there in about 10 minutes,” he said. “Is Peter alright?”

_ “Yes, Mr. Stark. Peter is fine. We will see you then.” _

Tony had no clue what the issue was. His mind spun slightly as he drove the short way to Peter’s school. According to May, the kid had never had any trouble aside from being bullied every once in a while, and Tony was already working on getting the Flash kid to cease and desist. 

He walked into the office, and Peter was sitting in the chair, his arms crossed sullenly and his head down. Another boy was sitting next to him.

“Hey, bambino.”

Peter’s face lit up. Tony would never get tired of seeing that.

“Hey dad!” He jumped up and hugged Tony, another thing Tony would never tire of.

May and Ben arrived shortly after, along with a woman who was presumably the other kid’s mom, and the group was ushered into the office.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Principal Calvin said. “Uh, this is highly unusual, because normally Peter is very well mannered. But both Eric and Peter have been called in today for fighting.”

May gasped, looking at her nephew. “Peter!”

Peter looked down, shrinking from his aunt’s gaze.

“Well, he obviously started it,” the kid’s mom said. “Eric would only ever defend himself. I mean, look at my poor baby’s face.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Peter. “He should be expelled.”

Tony didn’t miss the little brat’s smug expression or Peter’s balled fist.

“Now hold on a second!” He said, the defensiveness he felt for his son filling his tone. “Why don’t we let Peter tell his side of things?”

“Yes,” Ben agreed, glaring at the woman. “There’s always more than one side to the story.”

Tony nodded his gratitude to the other man.

“I was just telling my friends that you’re the new Santa,” Peter said, turning his tear filled eyes to Tony. “And Eric started making fun of me, saying it isn’t true and calling me a liar and a baby. So I pushed him, then he hit me. Then the teachers came.”

Tony heard Ben sigh and could practically see May pinching the bridge of her nose. He cringed. He’d been hoping to keep the whole “Santa” thing from coming up any more.

“Is this true, Eric?” Principal Calvin asked.

Eric’s petulant silence and his mother’s quiet fuming spoke volumes. 

“Well then,” Calvin sighed. “I want you both to remember that bullying and fighting will not be tolerated. Both of you will be suspended for tomorrow. Please see that it doesn’t happen again.”

Eric’s mom stood up with a huff. “I don’t know that I want my baby at this school anyway.” She said and stormed out, her hand tight on her son's wrist as she dragged him behind her. 

“Thank you, Principal Calvin. I’m sure this won’t happen again,” May said. “Right, Peter?”

“Right,” Peter mumbled, as unable to stand against May’s wrath as Tony was.

“Alright then. We will see you in school the day after tomorrow.” And with that, they were all dismissed. 

Everyone except Tony.

“Mr. Stark?” The principal called. Tony paused with his hand on the handle. “I think it would be best if you spoke with Peter about this whole Santa situation.”

“It was just a dream,” Tony explained.

“Well, obviously not to Peter. You need to sit down with him and help him understand. He needs normalcy.”

Tony quickly agreed and was dismissed himself. He hurried out of the office and away from Calvin’s piercing gaze.

“Tony, may I have a word?” Ben said quietly as Tony caught up to the group. Tony nodded and they paused as May and Peter continued on towards the car.

“Honestly, I’m very concerned.”

“About what?” Tony refrained from rolling his eyes. “Why is everyone acting like it’s such a big deal that Peter believes in Santa? I mean, he’s 8 for heaven’s sake!”

“I was 3,” Ben said, shrugging. “But that’s not the point. I’m honestly very uncomfortable with the fact that you went against our wishes and convinced Peter that Santa’s real. And now he’s fighting in school! May and I are both very worried.”

“Look, that kid obviously had it coming. I’m honestly kind of proud of Peter for standing up for himself.”

Tony could tell Ben was also proud, and a bit relieved too, but trying not to admit it.

“Okay, sure. But Peter never fights, and I don’t find the fact that he’s starting to after spending time with you very reassuring.”

Tony stomach dropped down to his feet. He couldn't lose Peter.

“I’ll talk to him. I don’t want him getting in trouble over this any more than you do.”

“Thank you,” Ben said, and the pair shook hands.

However, Tony learned the next day as he took Peter to the zoo that it wasn’t quite so easy.

“Just like Gerald, dad!” Peter exclaimed as they watched a polar bear swim and play with its ball.

“Peter, listen. I’m not Santa Claus. It was just a dream, kiddo.”

Peter glared at him, and Tony was suddenly very surprised that Peter wasn’t May’s biological child because  _ good grief he looks just like her when he does that. _

“No it wasn’t.”

“Peter, please-” 

“You’re just in denial. But that’s okay. You’ll get there eventually. You have to, because there are lots of little kids that believe in you.” He looked at Tony. “I believe in you.”

How could Tony tell him that Santa wasn’t real now? He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Those big brown eyes and the sweet, innocent smile were impossible to let down.

“Okay,” Tony sighed. “But here’s the deal. Let’s not...let’s not tell anybody about this. Can you do that?”

“Why?”

“Because of May and Ben. And the kids at school. I don’t want you getting into fights anymore. You gotta stay on the good list, right?”

Peter grinned.

“Think you can do that for me, bambino?”

“Anything, dad!”

Was Tony biting off more than he could chew? 

Probably. 

Was it worth it to keep Peter’s happy smile on his face?

Definitely.

***

Fortunately, Peter was a kid of his word. He didn’t say anything more about Santa to anyone but Tony.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have to.

Tony noticed the changes around April. He woke up one morning and went to shave, keeping his signature goatee sharp and defined. But he looked in the mirror, he nearly screamed. He had never, not even in his crazy, alcohol filled days, had a beard. But somehow, one had shown up overnight.

And what was worse, all his hair was  _ white. _

He tried shaving it off, but stared in disbelief as it grew back right before his very eyes. So he called in sick to work. Now way was anybody seeing him like this.

Well, except Pepper Potts.

She came up to his personal floor (the only one with access to it without asking besides Rhodey) and immediately screamed.

“Oh my gosh,  _ Tony?  _ What on earth? Is this some cry for help?”

“No, Pep. I don’t know what’s going on. I woke up and it was just like this. Can you go pick up some hair dye for me? Please?”

Pepper stared for a few minutes before shaking her head.

“Wow. Okay. Sure, I’ll go get some dye. You look over these while I go.” She handed him the stack of meeting notes. ”I’m gonna call you a doctor, too.”

(The doctor had absolutely zero answers except mid life body changes, and Tony was not willing to even entertain that thought).

Then came the weight gain.

Rhodey was out of the country for a few months, on tour in some remote country he wasn’t allowed to divulge the name of, and he flew home just in time to surprise Tony for his birthday. 

But Tony wasn’t the only one to get surprised.

“Happy Birthd- oh. Tony?”

Tony just sighed. “Yeah, it’s me. Go on and laugh.”

He didn’t. “I heard about the whole Santa thing, I just didn’t think you would take it so seriously, man.”

“Rhodey, I don’t know what to do.” Tony was panicking a little. “My hair won’t stay dyed or shaved, I can’t keep off the weight, and just the other day I was humming  _ Jingle Bells _ to myself!”

“Ooookay. Well, I don’t know about the hair thing. Maybe see a doctor for that. And there’s nothing wrong with humming Christmas songs-”

“You know I have a strict ‘no Christmas until December’ policy!”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “But for the weight thing, what have you been eating? We both know you’ve never exactly had a balanced diet.”

“Mostly milk and cookies, I guess?”

“Well, uh, there’s your problem right there, though I’m glad you’ve finally started drinking something other than coffee. It’s probably just our college days catching up and all the sugar you’ve been eating. Why don’t we make you a nice salad?”

And then there was the SI Santa fiasco.

Tony was forced to go to a shareholders meeting to prove he could still handle the company after his recent bout out calling in “sick.” Tony was grateful nobody said a word about his weight or hair, though he could tell they were all curious.

Obie started the presentation, a new marketing technique for the missile coming out in December. They were using Santa to help sell it, and the whole thing just rubbed Tony wrong for some reason. The picture Obie put up of Santa on the camo-patterned tank, ignoring the reindeer and looking like a war profiteer, made Tony’s blood boil.

“No!! Absolutely not!” He interrupted. The room fell silent. “What about the reindeer? I mean, c’mon. Santa’s not going to go anywhere without his reindeer and his sleigh!”

“Tony, really-”

“And what is he wearing?” Tony continued, completely ignoring Obie’s interruption. “He needs his suit! He can’t deliver presents to every child in  _ camouflage! _ Nobody would recognize him, and he already has trouble with dogs and police as it is, imagine what it would be like if they saw Santa like that. They’d shoot him without a second thought!”

Tony finished his rant, and registered all the wide eyes staring at him. 

_ Oh boy _ .

He DIDN'T know where that came from, it just sort of slipped out.

Obie recovered first, he’d always been good in difficult situations, and ushered Tony out with a quick excuse to everyone else.

“Tony, look. I’m not sure what’s going on, what crisis you’re going through, but you need to figure it out. This is not a good look,” he whispered in the hall. “Go home and get some rest. Come back when you’re more together.”

Tony nodded, numbly.

“And for heaven's sake, go see a doctor. You look terrible.”

As the year progressed, Tony began to look less like his normal genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and more like the “jolly old elf” he saw on coke cans. He read through THE list, shipped to him in tons of large red boxes, and started seeing people on the street as  _ naught _ or  _ nice _ . He even knew their names and what they wanted for christmas. His mind was constantly spinning, and he had no idea which way was up half the time.

The bright spot, as always, was Peter.

“Dad, will you come to my science fair?” He asked during one of their lab days, another thing Tony had been granted when Peter started coming back into his life. There had been some talk about taking it away when Tony started looking like Santa, but he’d fought tooth and nail, perfectly toeing the line to prove they had nothing to worry about. He couldn’t lose Peter, he  _ couldn’t. _

“Of course, buddy! I’d love to come!”

Peter smiled and continued working on his little project.

“You think next year I can drive the sleigh?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

“What? No!”

“C’mon dad! Why not!”

“Because it’s not r-”

Peter looked dejected. “You still don’t believe, do you?”

“Peter, it’s just not that simple.”

“Yes it is! You’re Santa! Christmas  _ needs _ you.”

Visions of all Tony’s escapades and bad decisions passed through his mind.  _ I am definitely not the Santa that the world needs, even if it was real. _

“Okay, buddy. I’m trying, alright?” Tony desperately tried to change the subject. “Whatcha building?”

Peter’s smile was back as he showed Tony the elf clock he was making. It looked like Happy.

“Wow, that’s really, cool! Good work!”

Peter didn’t mention Santa again, but Tony knew he was still thinking about it.

It seemed everyone else was, as well.

***

Tony was engrossed in his son’s science project. Peter (with a little bit of Tony’s help) had made a replica arc reactor and Tony couldn’t be more proud. It didn’t work, of course. It was just to show how insanely smart Peter was and educate people on clean energy.

Tony was soaking up his son’s knowledge and the warm feeling of pride that had started permeating his general thoughts recently when a tap on his arm interrupted those thoughts.

He looked down into the adorable eyes of a 5 year old girl. She beckoned him closer, and Tony leaned down so she could whisper in his ear.

“I want ballet slippers!” She said with a giggle, and Tony nodded and smiled. 

He knew just from looking at her that her name was Hadley, and she was definitely on the nice list, though she’d had her moments of mischief that year. How he knew that was beyond him, and he didn’t have time to think about it because suddenly kids were lining up to talk to him, and he ended up hearing the Christmas wishes of about 15 different boys and girls before they were interrupted by an irate May.

She was so mad she was nearly speechless. She tried to formulate a sentence a couple times before she finally got the words out.

“I cannot  _ believe _ you would stoop so low. You convince Peter you’re Santa, you change your physical appearance for him, and now this? I never thought you’d go this far just to get him to like you.”

Peter came trotting up to them, his face glowing with pride as he held a first place ribbon in his hand. His face fell as May spun around, dragging him behind her and ignoring both his and Tony’s pleas and protestations. 

The next time he saw them was at a courthouse, Peter crying and calling Tony’s name as May again dragged him away. 

The judge had revoked all of Tony’s guardianship rights. 

Tony walked home alone that November afternoon, dejected and cold. He’d lost everything, and he only had 2 weeks left before Thanksgiving.

***

Tony sat in his penthouse alone, staring at his pre-ordered thanksgiving dinner. All he really wanted was to see Peter.

So he drove to the Parker’s home.

“Tony?” May asked as she opened the door. “What’re you doing here?”

Tony shifted to his other foot. “I, uh, just wanted to wish you a happy thanksgiving? And see if maybe I could just say hi to Peter?”

May sighed. “Tony-”

“It’ll just be a few minutes,” he pleaded. “Please? It’s thanksgiving.”

May stepped aside and Tony stepped into the warm, beautiful living room.

“Dad?” Peter gasped, and Tony barely had time to open his arms before they were full of little boy.

He buried his face into Peter’s curls, breathing in the scent of his watermelon shampoo.

“Hey bambino,” he murmured. “I missed you!”

May and Ben discreetly left to give Tony a few moments alone.

“Dad, why can’t I see you anymore? I miss the lab. And your silly jokes. And Santa. I just miss you dad.”

“Oh, bud,” Tony said, his hand combing through Peter’s soft curls. “I know. We can’t see each other very often because of Santa.”

“Nobody believes it, do they?” Peter asked, lifting his head to look at Tony. He sighed. “Not even you. Dad, you have to believe!”

“I’ve told you, Peter. I’m trying, but l don’t see how it’s possible.”

Peter squirmed and Tony let him down. He darted off to his room and came back with the clock he’d made months ago on their lab day.

“Come on, dad. Remember what Friday said? Believing isn’t seeing, seeing is believing!”

Tony stared at that clock, and though it didn’t look exactly like Happy, he could see the elf, remember the North Pole, feel the excitement and the hope.

He looked at Peter, a smile spreading across his face in perfect synch with the warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I'm Santa Claus!” He whispered, and Peter gave a small cheer.

“Well, it’s about time,” a new voice said behind them. They whirled around to find Happy standing in the living room.

Peter gasped. “How’d you get in here?” He asked excitedly and ran to give Happy a hug. The elf looked like he was about to squirm, but Tony knew first hand how lovable Peter was and figured it was only a matter of time before Happy felt the same.

“Magic, kid,” he answered. “Now, boss, we need to get you home. Are you ready?”

Peter was jumping back into Tony’s arm in an instant. “I wanna come with you! Can I?” He asked, turning to look at Happy. 

“Sure. I don’t see why now!” He said, and Tony grinned. With a snap of the elf’s fingers, the trio disappeared without a trace.


End file.
